


Don't Ask Don't Tell

by cephalopodcat



Category: The Magicians (TV), The Magicians - Lev Grossman
Genre: Drunk Sex, Drunkenness, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Light Angst, M/M, Mind Reading, d/s dynamics, dark thoughts implied but not explicit, it's all consensual, mild touches of how very screwed up these kids are, mostly tv compliant, references to the books, tiny hints at suicidal thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 14:25:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6708355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cephalopodcat/pseuds/cephalopodcat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eliot's bored. Things are always trouble when he's bored. Tonight his sights are set on Penny, despite Penny's best efforts to encourage him elsewhere. Lucky for him, Penny's very good at reading people. Literally and figuratively; all Eliot has to do is let him see what's on his mind, and Penny knows what he's asking for. He doesn't ask it of very many people- not enough he can trust, not like this, but Penny... well.<br/>He's just drunk enough to take his chances, and Penny's both very attractive and probably willing to keep his mouth shut. </p><p>Aka, Eliot is drunk and needy, and Penny enjoys blowjobs and being in charge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Ask Don't Tell

**Author's Note:**

> There was no Penny/Eliot fic at the time I wrote this. So I provided for myself. A slight warning, there are some mentions of Eliot not being in a terribly great place mentally in here. Also, yes, Penny is absolutely reading his mind, and he's agreeing to the things Eliot is thinking of him. 
> 
> I mostly just wrote this because that little snippet in the first book, when Quentin walks in on Eliot playing his games with his boytoy rang very much to me like a Dom/sub sort of dynamic, and it got me to thinking, maybe that's how Eliot destresses. He kind of enjoys someone telling him to get on his knees, and do his 'chores'. As for Penny...well. We don't get any background on Penny. I took liberties. his is probably somewhere post-beast, post Q and Alice moving into the Physical Cottage, post Brakebills South. Eliot's post-Mike, Penny is post-Kady (and still stinging over it as much as he will never admit) and they're both bored and lonely.

"Are you aware of the difference between 'yes' and 'no?" Penny asks, as Eliot collapses backwards onto the couch in a tumble of purple silk and tequila. "Because when you asked if I wanted company and I said 'no' this was the opposite of what I meant. Yes and no, do those words mean anything to you.

"Maybe." Eliot says, laughing. His legs are thrown over the arm of the couch, his torso spread along the free part of the couch with his head in Penny's lap. Eliot, much like that one annoying housecat Penny had had forever ago when he still had a place he called 'home', did not care much for other people's personal space. And, like the cat, he seemed capable of uniquely impossible bends and folds, especially when he was so well lubricated with alcohol. Still in his pajamas (at least, that's what Penny was assuming the purple silk robe and pants were) at five in the afternoon, he still manages to look like a particularly elegantly-dressed stork, all long limbs and casual avian indifference. Something about the hair, Penny thinks. Like a crest, or something.

"Get off me." Penny says. Eliot does not move. He does not want to move. Penny is very comfortable and very pretty and he smells nice. Eliot is very drunk. And yet, not half as drunk as people assume, because he is in fact in possession of his faculties, he just seems to have ditched his doubts and posh sense of dignity somewhere in favor of finding a handsome first year to sit with. Quentin, he figured, might take this a little too personally. Quentin took everything too personally. And while the confused puppy look was cute, Eliot had something else in mind.

"No." Eliot says, lighting a cigarette with a quick, wrist-snapping gesture and drawling in a lungful of nicotine-flavored smoke. He leans his head back and sighs mournfully at Penny, pouting. "I'm _lonely_. Margo's off getting her engine tuned by that cute Nature boy- what's his name, Ryan? Reese? Its something awful, but apparently he's got a dick like a Greek God, so she's out for the night. I need company."

"I don't want company." Penny says with a glare. "Especially you."

"Yes you do. You're sitting on my couch reading my book and drinking my liquor."

"It's the library's book."

"In the physical cottage."

"You're an asshole. Can't you find someone else to bother?"

"Yes, but I don't want to." Eliot switches from smoking to drinking, somehow managing to drink straight from the bottle even though this involves upending the whole thing over his head to do so. Penny is, admittedly, a little impressed he's not somehow drowning himself. So Penny takes the bottle from him and takes a drink too. It doesn't seem to bother Eliot in the slightest, seeing as he just smiles faintly and goes back to smoking, closing his eyes and appearing to relax into Penny's lap.

"Are you just incapable of being alone?" Penny asks after another twenty minutes of this. His tactic of studiously ignoring Eliot wasn't working, and as far as he could tell, the man had fallen asleep with his head in Penny's lap. Penny's book was forgotten, resting to one side, finger marking his place, as he tried to get rid of his Eliot-shaped problem. 

Eliot doesn't open his eyes. "No. But I don't want to be alone right now." He drawls lazily.

That leaves Penny a little taken aback. He wasn't really expecting an answer that sounded quite so flatly honest. "Oh." Is the best he manages. He frowns a little, looking at Eliot, trying to figure out exactly what his deal is, but there's just empty fogginess and the sort of sliding feeling of water on glass that means he's keeping his mind neatly shut from Penny. Eliot laughs.

"Do you want a peek, Penny dearest?" He purrs, not sounding particularly bothered or surprised he seems to have caught Penny in the act of spying. "Don't look like that, you weren't being subtle. And no, I can't tell if you were poking inside my head or not, you just have this look on your face." Eliot's looking up at him now, calm and quite relaxed. "Do you want to look inside my head? You're more than welcome to. I'm terrible at sharing my feelings with people but if you want to brave this rat's nest, be my guest." Eliot seems to be leading into something, but Penny hasn't the slightest idea what.

Penny is in fact quite taken aback. "The hell is your deal?" He asks after a moment, setting the book aside for real and looking down at Eliot. Eliot's eyes are bright and probably wider than they should be. What else was he on? Who knew, and with Eliot, the best way to guess was practically throwing a dart at a drug encyclopedia.

"I'm very drunk and quite high and don't want to be alone right now. I have more fun in company. And you being irritated by me is just a bonus. I like it. You're snappy. It's exciting." That's oddly open for Eliot. He's smiling but there's something slightly off about it, and Penny can't quite put his finger on it. It's infuriating. Even more so than usual, which for Eliot is actually pretty impressive.

"So go bother the dipshit or Alice or someone."

"Quentin's cute, but he doesn't want my shit on top of his. And Alice is... Alice wouldn't know what to do with me. Also, she's not exactly my type." Eliot shrugs, apparently not caring he's probably revealed more of himself in three sentences than he ever has to Penny in their entire course of interactions thus far. "Penny, if you really want me to go away, I will, I just don't want to be alone, and you're my type right this second."

"What does that mean?" Penny asks, more curious than he really wants to admit. Incredulous, too, because thanks, Eliot, not sure what that meant, but he thinks he's flattered.

"Look for yourself and see. Much easier if I don't have to explain, and much less awkward."

Penny snaps his gaze down at Eliot again, who is smiling beatifically at the shorter man he's resting against. Penny snorts, rolling his eyes, and that makes Eliot smile wider. Penny's not exactly uncomfortable, but this is not top on his list of evening activities. Cuddling with a bitchy gay upperclassman had never been on his to-do list, in fact. Well. Okay. He might consider Margo, but she's a fucking witch, like the cackling and curses kind, and he thinks she might have teeth in her vagina. He's not risking it. And, if he had to admit it, the company was _almost_ bearable. After Kady, he... his room had slightly less appeal alone, and even Quentin and his asshole friends were a bit better than sulking on his own yet again. Not that he'd ever admit it. Penny cocks his head and looks down at Eliot. Eliot lifts a hand and tugs on the end of his scarf, smiling like a catnip-stoned kitten.

Penny blinks at Eliot for a long moment, and the other, very drunken man smiles back at him. "I've got nothing to hide from you, Penny- if that's even your real name." Eliot chuckles to himself, clearly amused by his terrible attempt at humor. "I don't really care what you think of me. But I also think you don't care about me either, which actually makes this _much_ easier. If you don't care, you won't judge."

"How drunk are you?" Penny asks, examining the bottle in Eliot's free hand with a frown.

"Find out." Eliot says, raising an eyebrow and tapping the side of his head with one long, slender finger. (Why was he paying attention to how pretty Eliot's hands were? God damn man had no right to be as weirdly pretty as he was.) It takes a minute, but Perry eventually sighs and looks again. Whatever wards Eliot had had up against him (and they were quite clean and crisp, actually nothing like the patchy woolly bullshit Quentin tried and failed to keep up in front of him) were gone, and it was simple enough to glance at the inside of Eliot's mind.

Which was certainly a trip.

Eliot's a lot more... complicated than he lets on. He's incredibly fucking drunk right now, but it's like a band-aid over some gaping wound in him, soaking up blood before falling off. It's not doing much but it seems to be staunching some of the flow of near-frantic thought. He's upset, he's worried, he's stressed, he's utterly fucking miserable and he has been for a lot longer than he will admit, and he is needy as all hell. There's flashes and glimpses he doesn't mean to get, and he thinks Eliot didn't mean to show him, but he sees them anyway. The feeling of a fist to the bone of his cheek, and the stinging of physical and emotional pain. Words he doesn't hear but cling to his skin and make him feel less than human. Pride and anger and fierce bravado that keeps him hauling himself up in the morning when sometimes he'd rather just sleep forever. Something salty and briny like gin and vermouth and flashes of people and places and things and desires and memories and emotions. Eliot's messed up as hell, actually. He's scared. He's stressed. He wants an outlet. He picked ... _Penny_.

He thinks Penny is hot. Which, okay, yes, little bit of a matter of pride, and Penny likes that a little. It's actually kind of awesome. A nice stroke to his ego. "You think I'm sexy?" He asks, a little bemused laugh coloring the words.

Eliot grins (his smile is a little crooked, and Penny notices that for the first time) and he looks up at Penny. "I always kind of thought the punk rock hipster look was hot. And the tattoos. Very attractive." His hand slides up Penny's arm to the snake on his shoulder, brushing over the ink fondly.

"You're fucked up." Penny says flatly, drawing back. His fingers are tangled in Eliot's hair, and he's not sure how they got there. Eliot's smile fades and he sighs.

"Yeah. So are you." He shoots back, closing his eyes again. "You pretend you're not but you don't want to be alone any more than I do. Your little hedge hurt you, didn't she?"

Penny is silent, and Eliot sighs. "I went too far." Surprise surprise, fuckers, Eliot's not an idiot. And apparently he's capable of being nice(ish) when he wants to be. "I'll leave. I'm disappointed, but I'll leave."

He's sitting up when Penny grabs the back of his robe. "I didn't say you had to leave. I didn't even get to the other shit I saw in your head. You're gonna kill yourself, you know that?" He raises an eyebrow, and Eliot grins back, plastic and thin.

"I'll be fine. I always am. Haven't killed myself yet, right?" There's laughter in his voice and Penny wonders how the hell no one else sees how fucking brittle it is.

"Not for lack of trying."

Eliot stands abruptly and paces across the room, leaning on the door frame. "So the pretty little psychic has a bitchy side." He says, almost irritated. Penny watches him, not responding to the catty little fight-picking attempt. He saw what was in Eliot's head. He's not sure Eliot meant to show him that much, or if he even realized it, but he did. Penny would feel guilty, but he's been learning the deep dark innermost secrets of the people he's been walking by for fucking years now, and this is no different from the woman at the ATM he passed who let him see her debit card pin as he lifted her wallet, and who also let him see the face of her dominatrix she was desperately longing to leave her husband to be with, or the man who told him to get lost when he was trying to shoplift who also wore women's underwear, or the cop who'd tried to arrest him when he was fifteen who really, really wanted to beat him to a pulp and was only barely resisting because someone else might see. He's never been able to shut them out, so he just sits on these secrets he piles up in his own private dragon hoard of fucked up, and this is no different. Eliot sometimes thinks about killing himself and he has for years, and he fixes that with drugs and alcohol and glamming it up with Margo, and there's something he wants but he's too chickenshit to ask for directly.

"Coming from the king bitch, that's harsh." Penny says, and Eliot smacks his hand against the door frame in irritation.

"I could be _so_ much worse."

"Yeah, no, let's not." Penny laughs. Eliot glances over his shoulder at him and frowns. The expression is cold and somehow elegant despite Eliot kind of looking like a hot mess, and Penny laughs again. "Man, you are like a million kinds of fucked up. You know that, right?"

Eliot's frown deepens and he sneers a little. "You're judging me? _Really_?" He says, looking arch and annoyed.

Penny holds up his hands in a mock surrender and leans back against the couch. "Hey! Calm down, bitch tits. I didn't say I wasn't curious. Just that you're super fucked up."

Eliot blinks and pulls his head back a little, considering Penny anew. After a long moment he pushes the door shut instead of opening it, and with a quick little flick of his fingers in a complicated knot formation, the lock clicks. He leans back against the door, pressing his back to the wood while he takes another drink from the bottle still dangling loosely from his fingers. "So you're interested." Eliot says, smiling cautiously.

"I mean, I'm not gay, but you're pretty enough, and I do like blowjobs." Penny is grinning, and it's only slightly stressed. He knew exactly what he'd seen in Eliot's head, but he wanted to be very sure. "And I like being in control. So. Like, that works out. Still weird, but I've seen weirder. I've _done_ weirder."

Eliot looks intrigued as he paces back across the room toward Penny, smiling like a cat with his eyes on a gorgeous canary. "Oh? Storytime, sweetheart?" He asks, settling down loosely over Penny's lap, knees braced on either side of Penny's hips, his arms stretched over the back of the couch. Penny's trapped in a cage of Eliot's limbs, and he just leans back and smiles up at his captor.

"Nope. Just go with 'I had to pay the rent somehow and Chicago's a shithole.'" He is languid and relaxed, not a hint of worry or fear on his face as Eliot searches for just that, and he reaches out to snag the bottle of tequila from him and take a drink. Eliot looks pleased, and he ducks his head down only to be stopped with a finger to his jaw. Penny looks at him and smiles. "Say please." He says, and he can see the way that lights that weird little spark inside Eliot. His eyes are wide and socked, but also delighted, and Penny kind of likes it. He likes the way Eliot regards him like a whole new entity, someone to be regarded with that look of cautious excitement.

Eliot licks his lips. "Please." He says, voice lower and slightly softer. His eyes flick to Penny's lips, and Penny strokes his finger down his jaw to tap his chin. He takes another drink right out of the bottle and he can see the tension in Eliot's body all of a sudden. Eliot _wants_ so badly all of a sudden, and he's alive with anticipation. Wow. Kinky motherfucker, wasn't he? (On the other hand, Penny really doesn't mind. It's a fun little power trip. Also good tequila.) He leans back and gives it a minute, considering everything very carefully.

"Alright. Fine. Don't be all sappy about it though." Penny says, rolling his eyes. Before he knows it Eliot is leaning down to kiss him, and he laughs at it, completely without meaning to. It's just- god. What the fuck is he doing? This asshole's been nothing but a pain in his ass for months, and he's drunk as fuck, and he knows it's probably not fair. But god damn it, Penny is lonely and bored and he's never actually gotten up the balls to say that, and here comes Eliot fucking Waugh dropping himself- literally dropping himself- into his lap with some sort of weird kink bullshit he's asking Penny to indulge him in and he said yes? What the fuck was he thinking?

Except he knows he wasn't thinking, not really, because Eliot was Eliot and he knew, now, with astonishing certainty, if he said this never happened and he never wanted to talk about it again, Eliot would walk away and it would never, ever be spoken of again. Which is weird as hell because _Eliot_ but also? Penny is tired and bored and lonely and Eliot's an ass but apparently he's surprisingly okay and Penny doesn't actually hate him. Not completely, anyway. And he's hot, for a dude (Penny's been with guys before, sure, why not? It as an experiment, it felt nice enough, he just had more pressing things to consider than gay-straight-bi-whatever, you know? The voices in his head were enough to fuck him over, thanks, why bother making it worse?)

Eliot looks almost offended, and he's frowning, so Penny laughs again and pulls him in by his stupid purple robe to kiss him properly. Eliot is surprised for all of a second, but when Penny fights for control he relinquishes it, letting him drag him down and kiss him harsh and rough. It's not romantic, it's hungry and exploratory, and Eliot's all too willing to give in.

Penny's _listening_ , now, and Eliot's letting him in. Eliot thinks he's beyond sexy, alright, tattoos and scruff and those vests he wears and he might be exactly opposite Eliot's type except that's exactly what Eliot is looking for. Penny sees the way Eliot looks at him when the kiss breaks, sees the way Eliot's eyes rake over him so hungrily, feels the hitch in his breath as Eliot strokes down his scarf almost nervously. (The fabric is soft and worn, and Eliot wants to bury his face in it.) Penny laughs and rolls his eyes again. "God, you're eating this up, aren't you? You really think I'm that attractive?"

Eliot focuses on his face again, snapping his mouth shut where his lips had been parted as he looked over Penny like a gourmet meal. "I told you, the punk thing works for me." He says, with a shrug and a smirk. Penny quite likes the smirk in fact, which is as annoying as it is entertaining. So he kisses him again, nipping at Eliot's lower lip just to hear the sound he makes. Eliot can mouth off all he wants, but this seems to shut him up nicely.

If you'd asked him earlier, he never would have said he would be here in the Physical cottage in some random little nook of a room making out with Eliot, but here he is. And it's kind of hot. Like really hot. He approves of it. So, in fact, does his dick. So many people he's kissed just don't fucking know how to kiss, and maybe he's till sort of picking up cues from Eliot's brain, but also Eliot likes to kiss and he likes to let Penny have his way with him. So Penny does, kissing him until his lips are red and tender, bites at his tongue and presses into his open mouth like he owns it, and Eliot lets him. (Eliot loves it. Panting and shaky and wonderful and Penny grabs his hair and Eliot whines just a tiny bit though he will deny it if questioned.) They break apart so Penny can breathe and look at him and Eliot hangs his head a little and looks at the jut of Penny's collarbone and wonders what it would feel like to bite down right there-

Penny jerks his hair and calls his name and Eliot blinks. "Man you really get off on this?" Penny laughs, as Eliot tries to focus on his face and remember why that is relevant right now. He'd been so good just a second ago, why'd Penny have to go and ruin it? All nice and floaty and warm- For a second Eliot looks hurt, and then he looks afraid, and then he looks angry, and then they're back to normal Eliot, not the soft panting needy Eliot, and Penny scratches his nails through his hair to try and ease him back down to that happy place. "Hey, calm down. I just never pegged you for that type. Go on. I'm enjoying it. But you had that fantasy, huh? That thing you wanted to do. So you know. Do it."

Eliot flushes and Penny is kind of delighted to see the blush goes down his neck most of the way to his bare chest, and Eliot backs off just a little, shifting so he's not as likely to fall off the couch if he moves. He leans in, tentatively at first, and kisses at Penny's jaw almost submissively, bracing himself on Penny's shoulders. He's gentle and sort of soft, trailing a path of demure kisses along the stubbled plane of Penny's jaw. (Penny really is kind of gorgeous in his own weird way. Those tattoos are beyond hot, and Eliot had caught himself staring at the snake curling up Penny's bicep, and he had this habit of not wearing shirts under his vests, and god, you know, Eliot liked men with a little hair on their chest, and Penny hits all the right boxes for him, god, he was fucking attractive, and Eliot had had a couple fantasies of him before, when say, Ryan Reynolds didn't do it, he switched to the rough and tumble, and Penny was allllllll up in that section. Eliot had always wondered if he had any piercings, and once he'd daydreamed that and it had been _amazing_. Penny was... hm. Rough and kind of exotic-)

"I'm sorry, did you just think of me as exotic?" Penny sounds half offended, half amused. Eliot forgot he could hear his thoughts at the moment. (Seemed silly to try and put up his mental wards again when he actually wanted Penny to pick up his thoughts.)

Eliot blinks and mumbles his answer into the corner of Penny's jaw. "No?" He tries, and he gets a swift, startling slap on the ass for his trouble.

"You did too. Don't try and lie to me. Exotic. You motherfucker."

Eliot groans a little and kisses his way down Penny's throat, nipping at the thin skin near his collar as he tugs Penny's scarf out of the way. "Ugh, alright, fine. I did. I also thought of you as hot and sexy and many other nicer words?" He offers, trying (but not very hard) to mollify Penny.

"Ehn. Alright. Oh, but just because you were thinking about it? No. I don't."

Eliot furrows his brow for a second, already shimmying backwards so he can kiss along Penny's chest, but when he peels his vest open- "You don't what?" He asks, as he slides his hands down Penny's chest. Yep. That's pretty much exactly what Eliot likes, thanks, and he can't help the pleased, appraising little purr he makes as he runs his fingers down Penny's chest. (It kicks in a second later as he's tracing the stretch of Penny's stomach with a finger that he'd been playing out that peircing fantasy in his head, and his  _appeciation_ for it, and his reactions after and- Penny had picked up all of that. Oh. That sort of 'no I don't.') Well. Penny's still pretty attractive, even if he has to slightly adjust that fantasy.

Penny laughs. "You look like such a fucking moron right now." He says, ruffling Eliot's hair in a way that suggests he might kind of think otherwise. (Eliot crouched in front of him, hair mussed and eyes wide and bright is a sight, for sure. Penny's dick stirs in response, and he licks his lips.)

"You want this or not?" Eliot says, and he sounds like he's chiding him, but then he kind of wants to put his mouth on him, so he does. It's nothing super sexy or fancy, he just leans in and licks along Penny's sternum. He's met with just a soft sound of amusement, so he plays a little dirtier, and he slides his hands down Penny's stomach, a thumb tracing the curve of his navel, and his lips press kisses to the muscles of his chest, lingering with some interest on a nipple. He laves his tongue over it, and he loves the way Penny groans when he licks it.

"Fuck, man, warn me." Penny curses, jerking his head back roughly. Eliot goes easily, smiling at him.

"Make me." He points out, raising his eyebrows suggestively. Please, please, make me, his psyche begs. He needs this.  _Please make me._

Penny looks at him for a minute, and in that span of time Eliot's suddenly terrified Penny will just get up and walk out, leaving Eliot here, kneeing in front of the couch looking like an idiot. He swallows, and Penny's eyes catch on the way his throat bobs as he does so.

"Less talking, more sucking." He says, and he pushes Eliot's head down a little. "You have something to take care of." It's not quite the play routine he thinks Eliot gets his other boytoys to use, but Penny is not one of his other boytoys, and Eliot hasn't put up any wards or signals he wants to stop. He just seems to be asking for more, in fact. Begging, even.

Eliot, for his part, shivers slightly, and he gets comfortable on the ground in front of Penny. His knees ache a tiny bit, his silk pants doing little against the solidity of the hardwood floor, but he sort of likes it that way. Reminds him where he is, what he's doing. Eliot's snarky commentary stops at the order, too, and he simply bends his head and nuzzles at Penny's groin, trying to be appeasing. Penny's jeans are soft and worn and faded, black denim worn to charcoal gray, and they smell like Penny. (Penny always sort of smells like something not quite local- not exotic, just slightly out of place. Like stepping into someone else's house for the first time, an acute smell of foreign territory lines nobody crosses without invitation.) Eliot moans softly and strokes a hand up Penny's thigh, hooking his fingers into his belt as he presses a chaste kiss to Penny's erection inside his pants.

Penny makes a quiet, pleased sound, and he nods when Eliot looks up at him, resting his cheek against Penny's thigh. "Go on." He encourages, and he flicks his fingers a little, a lazy, casually dismissive action. Penny leans back into the couch, finding the bottle of tequila again and swigging some back without the slightest air of worry, looking down at Eliot kneeling in front of him, fumbling open his belt with those long fingers of his. Eliot's hair is a mess and his robe has slipped down one shoulder, baring his neck and his collarbone when he arches over to peel Penny's jeans down. Penny moves just enough to allow him to do so, and then settles again, and Eliot is left kneeling between his thighs, staring at his cock.

"Well?" Penny says, laughing. "I appreciate the awed look, there, but you have a blowjob to give, and I'm not half as interested as I could be." It's entirely joking, but he's a little curious to see how Eliot will take it. He seems to like the idea of Penny playing stern master here.

Eliot stares up at him, eyes wide, a hesitant, dreamy smile on his face. "Yes sir." He purrs, and he leans in. There's no preamble, though Penny thinks he could get some foreplay if he told Eliot he wanted it. No, Eliot just leans in and parts his lips and drags the flat of his tongue up the bottom of Penny's shaft, licking him from root to tip with the most obscenely satisfied moan. Wow. Okay, yeah, if Penny wasn't getting hard before (which he totally was) he's practically springing to life now.

Eliot's also quite good at this. Penny's not sure what he thought, exactly, would happen, with what he'd know of Eliot in general and what he'd seen Eliot wanting so badly in his head, but this was still not it. Eliot goes down on him like a fucking champ, in fact, and whatever he'd been thinking, he's _good_ at it. His mouth is hot, and he knows how to lick at Penny just right after a few experimental trial-and-error motions to gauge what Penny likes best. (What he likes best, right now, is the way Eliot licks just underneath the head of his dick, tracing slow, lazy circles with his tongue while he sucks gently at the head.) He switches it up some, here and there, hands roaming lazily over Penny's body where he can reach, one sliding between his legs to fondle his balls gently, the other eventually wrapping around the base of his shaft as Penny grows harder. Soon he's nearly fully erect, cock standing proud and stiff between his legs, and Eliot pulls back to lick away little droplets leaking from the tip; his motions are specifically teasing, little kittenish licks once Penny's hard and groaning and breathing heavily above him. He drags his tongue along his shaft, licking in long, slow strokes as Penny glares at him.

"I didn't say you could stop. Quit fucking around on me. You have to finish what you started." He snaps, and Eliot's eyes flutter closed for a second as he shudders and moans, breath hot against Penny's spit-slick cock just centimeters from his lips. Eliot's hard as a rock himself, but he doesn't dare touch himself; it wouldn't be right, he hadn't been told he's allowed to yet. (This is what he wants. Something simple, something easy. Someone to tell him, for just a little bit, don't think about anything else, just give me great head and focus on that. It's stress relief. He can let go, just think about pleasing whoever he' kneeling in front of, and let them have control for a little bit. It's how he unwinds, sometimes. No one else needs to know, but Penny looked inside his goddamn head and saw what he'd been begging for without him needing to ask.) Penny chuckles a little, and digs his fingers in Eliot's hair. "Come on." He encourages him, rocking his hips a little to nudge the head of his cock against Eliot's lips. Eliot moans again, opening his mouth obediently and letting Penny push inside his mouth, burying himself in hot, liquid heat.

Penny nods as Eliot flicks his gaze up to his face again, warm brown eyes dreamy and soft. Penny supposes it's probably a little uncharitable to think Eliot looks good this hazy and debauched, but it really kind kind of gorgeous. Eliot closes his eyes again and gets back to work, wrapping his hand around the base of Penny's shaft and twisting lightly, alternating the bob of his head with the stroke of his hand, swallowing around Penny's cock eagerly, making soft, needy little sounds as he does so. If Penny lets his head loll to the side, he can sneak a peek between Eliot's legs and see the tiny, faint little wet patch at the topmost part of his tented pants, and that makes him grin and scratch through Eliot's hair again. God he was that turned on just from this? Huh. (A sneaky little peek into his head and Penny's reeling; it was more than he expected. Eliot's somewhere hazy and sweet, focused just on making Penny happy, on being good for him, doing what he likes. It's weird, but Eliot is so very relaxed into his task. It's oddly sweet, and kind of incredibly hot. Eliot's all keyed up and excited- in every way- and he's debauched but helplessly sweet.) Eliot makes another sound, cut off by the way Penny rocks his hips again, pushing deeper into Eliot's mouth. He's close, actually, his cock hard and pleasure radiating up his spine, building somewhere in his center like a fireball. He lets his head fall back against the couch, bracing himself with his free arm, his other hand tight in Eliot's hair guiding him to the pace and depth he likes to get off. There's a quiet hush fallen over the room, punctuated only by the soft sounds of Eliot's quiet moans and the wet, slick sound of him sucking Penny off. Eliot doesn't resist as Penny pushes him around a little, except barely, to shift some so he can more comfortably take what is given, and then he's all beautiful little muffled moans and gasps of air when Penny pulls out, and then Penny catches a glance at his face, and well-

Fuck.

Penny growls something incoherent and jerks at Eliot's hair, yanking the taller man's head back as he realizes he's about to blow it all. Eliot, for his part, doesn't look anything more than startled. Penny can't be fucking assed to care, as about a second later Eliot fucking smirks at him and twists his hand and Penny arches his back and comes with that last little twist of pressure on him. He sort of blanks out for a second (always does when he comes) and the haze of people's thoughts drift around him before he re-centers himself, pleasure coursing through him like a small explosion. It's fast, intense, and he comes in a messy burst all over Eliot's face.

The upperclassman doesn't seem to do a damn thing but smile, slumped against Penny's legs as Penny catches his breath and gently nudges Eliot's hand off his softening cock. There's an obscene smear of cum on his face, but he doesn't make a move to wipe it off, just pants, open-mouthed and eager, as he watches Penny watch him. There's a thick pearly smear on his lower lip, and Penny watches with a low groan as Eliot very deliberately licks it off with a smirk. Eliot's pupils are huge, and he must be far drunker than he let on, or he's so turned on it must almost be physically painful. Penny gathers his thoughts and reaches out to check and- yep. Eliot is practically panting with how hard he is, but he's sitting there all pleasant and still with his hands on Penny's knees, waiting for permission. Well. He supposes he should give him that much. "Yeah, go for it." He says, flicking a hand and slumping back against the couch, head back so he stares at the ceiling.

He hears more than sees the soft whine as Eliot shifts and slides a hand down his front to take care of himself, and then it's the familiar wet, eager sound of a hand pumping a dick urgently, and Eliot's panting and low, desperate whining and- it only takes a few seconds, and then Eliot is gasping out Penny's name (his name, really?) stuttering a moan, sobbing 'thank you's as he comes over his own fist. Penny closes his eyes and smiles, and when he looks down, Eliot is staring at his own hand, still braced between Penny's knees, trying to catch his own breath.

"You know, that wasn't so bad." Penny says, after a moment, as he tucks himself back in his underwear and pulls his pants back up. He reaches out and ruffles Eliot's hair, which gets a slow, dazed smile in return. (He sneaks another peek, and Eliot is beyond relaxed. He's satisfied and drifting pleasantly on the high that comes from sex and this peculiar sort of game they had been playing, and Penny knows he wants to be rewarded with praise.) "You did good. And okay, I didn't hate it." He smooths Eliot's hair back into some semblance of order with one hand, and tries to fix his vest back up with the other. Eliot melts a little into the touch and the praise, and Penny sighs in a very put-upon way and half helps, half drags him up on the couch so Eliot can collapse there instead of in a pile on the floor. Penny watches him for a moment, but Eliot just laughs, low and relaxed and at ease, and he pulls his flask from some magical pocket inside his robe, and takes a long drink. He still hasn't bothered to clean off his face, and this time, it's Penny who feels sort of awkward over it. He can't quite look at Eliot right then; it's obscene. God. He looks hedonistic and debauched as hell and wow, it's a lot more satisfying than Penny had been prepared for. (He did that. He's kind of proud. It fades, but it's an interesting reaction he tucks away to think about later.) 

Penny snags the book he'd been reading and the bottle of tequila that had been discarded haphazardly on the floor and hauls himself off the couch. "You're still fucked up beyond reason." He informs Eliot as he makes a last check to make himself decent. Eliot's eyes are closed. There's a dreamy, sleepy smile on his face. "But that was fun."

"Mmm." Eliot murmurs. "I'm depraved and debauched defiled and way too pleased to argue right now, Penny." He says. There's silence in the room. He opens his eyes and glances around and realizes Penny is gone. He raises an eyebrow at the room in general, and then shrugs. He pulls out a handkerchief from another pocket of his robe, and cleans off his hand, and then the smear of come from his face. He folds the soiled cloth delicately and tucks it away again, and then thumps back down on the couch, fumbling for a cigarette and lighting it with a little spellwork-flourish of his fingers.

"Thank you anyway." He says, to the empty room, and he kicks his feet up to relax.

 


End file.
